Front of House: Observations from a Decade on the Aisle by Denise Reich

express his annoyance or contempt toward us. It was clear that he considered the ushers to be completely repulsive.
    Kat and the Kings closed after only four months or so on Broadway. The ushers did not receive invitations to the closing night party. However, a friend in the cast, Alistair Izobell, invited me anyway. Since I’d been asked to attend by a cast member, I walked over to the restaurant with two friends, Gene and Bob. They had attended a lot of performances and they’d also been invited to the party.
    Our very best buddy, the company manager, met us at the threshold. He ignored Gene and Bob and addressed me directly. ”I’m sorry, but the ushers were not invited,” he said. I stared at him for a second, hoping that he was joking, but he was dead serious.
    ”I’m here as a personal guest of Alistair,” I retorted. “Not as an usher.”
    ”Well, Alistair…”
    “Stop it!” There was another shadow in the doorway, and Willette bustled over to us, cutting off the manager mid-sentence. “They’re invited. She’s been a great supporter of the show.” She turned to me. “Please come in.” Bob, Gene and I awkwardly walked into the room.
    “Thank you,” I said. I didn’t even hear the response; Willette had moved off to speak privately with the management troll. She was on my side, and I was grateful.
    Alistair popped over to see what had happened, and someone else handed me a plate of pasta. As I tucked into my ziti I looked around the room. What I saw reinforced just how much this particular manager hated the ushers. The merchandising people had been invited, and I spotted at least one of the theater bartenders at the back of the dark room. There were also several superfans. I could have been wrong, but I wagered that none of them had been stopped at the door. If Gene and Bob had showed up without me, they probably would have been admitted without a fuss, too. This guy had actively excluded the ushers while inviting just about everyone else in the entire theater, both front and back of house. I didn’t know what we’d ever done to him, but the grudge was apparently much deeper than I had originally thought.
    For the rest of the night I caught the management troll glaring at me off and on, especially when I was chatting with friends from the show. It was kind of sad to think that he had so much hostility invested in someone who really hadn’t wronged him. When I spotted him talking to the house manager, I knew I needed to do something. I didn’t care if he hated me, but I couldn’t have him potentially jeopardizing my future employment.
    The house manager stood to one side of the room, nursing a drink. He raised his eyebrows when I approached him.
    “Listen, I want you to know that I didn’t crash this party. I really was invited by someone in the show, and I didn’t think it would be an issue.” He needed to know that.
    He regarded me quietly. “Yes, I know. And I think you all should have been invited, anyway.” Relief flooded through me. With one notable exception, I was among friends.

The Kat and the Kings holiday party. Author’s private collection

With Luqmaan Adams at Kat and the Kings. Author’s private collection

A Phantom party. Author’s private collection

Broadway Bloopers

    Do the actors ever screw up? Of course they do. When it happens, it’s often conversation fodder for everyone. It’s not about Schadenfreude as much as it’s about variety. When you’ve seen the same show hundreds of times you tend to become desperate for some deviation from the standard performance. Bloopers are entertainment for all, as long as no one gets hurt or fired.
    At Phantom, there were several incidents where the actor playing Joseph Buquet didn’t make it onstage in time for his big number, “Magical Lasso.” If you haven’t seen the show, it’s a scene where a grizzled old stagehand, Buquet, scares the young ballerinas of the Opera Populaire by regaling them with horror stories of